Demon saved by The Devil I Cassandra Dimitrescu

Mine

As the door clicked shut behind them, Zână turned to Cassandra, a hint of confusion in her eyes. "Cassandra?" she asked, crimson eyes jumping from eye to another, trying to read the vampire. "We're in the room, you can calm down, okay?"

But Cassandra didn't offer an explanation. Instead, she closed the distance between them, her lips capturing Zână's in a kiss. Kiss filled with possessiveness and longing, a silent declaration of her claim. When she finally pulled back, her golden eyes bore into Zână's with a fiery intensity.

"You're mine," Dimitrescu breathed again, her voice husky with desire and possession. It was a simple statement, but it carried the weight of all the emotions that had been simmering between them for so long. In that moment, Zână belonged to Cassandra completely, and the vampire had no intention of letting her go.

Cassandra's hands moved to cup the witch's face, holding her in a possessive grip as their lips connected again, giving the witch no time to react. Their lips met in a passionate, hungry kiss, and the world around them faded into insignificance. Cassandra's hands moved with confidence down the body, lifting Zână into the air as the kiss deepened. The witch willingly wrapped her legs around the vampire's waist, her body pressed intimately against Cassandra's. Her fingers tangled in Cassandra's dark hair, holding her close as their mouths continued their fiery dance until the kiss broke again.

Lips traced a scorching path along the curve of Zână's jaw, down her neck, and across her collarbone. The witch's, soft and faint, gasps and whimpers filled the room, mingling with the sound of their rapid breaths. Each touch, each kiss, was a testament to the hunger and desire that had simmered beneath the surface for so long.

But then, through the fog of the emotions, Zână heard a coughing sound from just outside the room just in the moment when her back hit the wall. It was a jarring interruption, a reminder of the world beyond the bubble of their passion. She tried to push Cassandra away gently by the shouders, her voice a breathless plea. "Cassandra," she whispered, her fingers tracing the vampire's scalp. "Someone's outside. We can't—"

But Cassandra, lost in a haze of desire and possessiveness, didn't seem to care. She continued to kiss and nip at Zână's skin, her hands roaming hungrily, one hand squeezed witch's bottom before speaking. "I don't give a damn," she growled between kisses, her voice husky with need. "Let them hear, let them know that you're mine."

Cassandra's possessiveness had taken control, and she was relentless in her pursuit of the witch's body. She didn't care if their passionate encounters were overheard; in this moment, all that mattered was the overwhelming desire that consumed them. Without hesitation, she sank her fangs into Zână's skin, eliciting a sharp gasp from the witch. The initial pain soon gave way to a rush of pleasure as she gasped, her hands gripping Cassandra's shoulders, nails digging into the vampire's skin in a mix of pain and pleasure. Head tilted back, exposing more of her throat, as a shudder of ecstasy coursed through her. Which lasted only for a moment as the coughing began again, this time louder.

"Cassandra, darling," soft-like silk voice tickled Cassandra's ears, causing her to finally move away from witch's neck. 

Cassandra pulled back, her eyes locking onto Zână's, their crimson depths filled with hunger that could only mirror a glimpse of what was insidethe golden ones. "Do you want me to stop printesa?" she asked in a voice that was so thick and low with desire, that it literally broke the witch.